The Other Day

The night before my friend in India had a close shave. She had almost chocked at a restaurant in Delhi over lunch when a perfect stranger from the next table saved her life by performing the Heimlich maneuver. Due to the wonder of facebook I was chatting with her in the morning and thanking her for still being alive. We discussed the ephemeral nature of life. I hung up and went back to work on my computer. Then my phone rang. Jen. "Arun - I'm driving your wife home". Jo's voice rasped in the background "find the epi-pen!". Jo had gone running with Jen. I found the Benadryl, Zertec, and the epi-pen and put them by the fornt door. Soon enough Jen arrived supporting Jo. She sat her down on the front steps. Jo tried and puked out two zertecs. It was time for the epi-pen. We've never used one before. They aren't small. I pulled the protective stuff off and looked at Jo. Jen encouragingly yelled something about stabbing her hard. I did - on her outer thigh though her workout pants and counted to ten seconds. Jo didn't even tense. After about 30 seconds of silence, Jo hoarsely whispered "hospital". Her pupils were smaller than pinpoints and her face was redder than a well-cooked lobster. Jen supported her and stumbled towards the driveway. I ran and got car keys.

Less than 3 minutes later (I was timing it from the epi-pen) I screeched to a stop in front of the ER at Seton. I ran and got a wheelchair. Jo fell into it. We ran through the ER lobby. I yelled "anaphylactic shock". They gave me a notepaper to write her name and dob while the speaker wailed "analphylaxis, female" and the ER doors flew open. I ran Jo's wheel chair down the hall and we were suddenly in an ER room with six medics. Jo threw up the rest of the pumpkin muffin as they transferred her to the bed and started attaching wires and tubes. The bp cuff hissed to life and the first reading appeared on the monitor. 73 over 37. The doctor and the techs got to work.

Thirty minutes and several shots and drips and readings later they were satisfied enough to raise the bed from the deep reverse-recline (Jo's head was a couple of feet below her feet) to almost level. I heard the doctor heave a sigh of relief and they started looking and talking to Jo and me. I sensed that the emergency portion was over.

They kept Jo at Seton for a little over 24 hours for observation. Jo wasn't happy and they had to deal with her. Next day she was well enough for us to ditch the kids and go on date night (saw Side Effect - not bad). We now keep the epi pen handy and try to make sure that the shadow of an egg doesn't cross Jo's path. That would be kapu.